A Princess's Tale
by Esperanza
Summary: Look at the title, people. This is the Princess's memoirs, a brief version of her life. Please read and review.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own Athena ****

Disclaimer: _I own Athena._ Sabre Wilde owns Brenna. If you want them, ask for them. Now, some things in this don't belong to us. I'm not sure which ones, exactly, but we don't own them, whatever they are. Okay, that's not quite true. I don't own Babylon 5, Highlander, Superman, stuff like that. So please don't sue us. We're financially challenged.

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Author's Notes: All right, let me explain exactly what this is. I'm _completely_ re-doing the _"Immortal Aide"_ series. There will be two series, the _"Immortal Aide"_, and the one leading up to it, which is started with this story. Kinda. It's supposed to be written after _"Déjà vu"_, but it'll start everything rolling. I know. Confusing. I'm good at that. This might be long, but you'll see why once you read it. And the title is a play on words from a certain movie I happen to have recently fell in love with. All of you are smart, I hope. You can figure out which one I'm talking about. So, have fun, and tell me what you think.

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A Princess's Tale

Prologue

Let's get one thing straight. It's only because of Josh I'm writing this. Bastard. He _knows_ I cannot resist him when he flashes me that puppy-dog look of his. And so here I sit, staring at this screen as I try to remember everything that has ever happened to me. Yet I digress.

There are stories about me in almost every culture, on almost every world. Most I've managed to get rid of, but a few still leak through. It's not so bad, and most are actually true, which is rare in legends, no?

But still, they don't tell my story. And even I cannot tell you exactly what or who I am, because I don't even know. So I can only tell you part of a type of poem a wizard wrote about me about, oh, a thousand years ago:

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I am the Princess,

I am the Pauper.

I am Everything,

But I am Nothing.

I am Death,

I am Life.

I am Order,

I am Chaos.

I am the Darkness,

And I am the Light.

There're about two more pages, but I won't bore you with the entire poem. That's the closest anyone has come to describing me, and it doesn't really clarify anything, does it?

That's my point. There's no way to describe me. There's no way to tell who I am, so if this gets confusing, I'm sorry. I'm a confusing sort of girl.

I am Athena, Champion of the Light, and the Princess. I have lived forever, and I cannot die. I am Immortal, I am a goddess, I am a witch, I am a wizard. I have been a peasant to a Princess. I am the oldest being, besides God, and, of course, Uncle. I have a bit of every type of blood or creature in me. I am a vampire, I am a murderer, I am a hag. I am a nymph, a Druid, a Dryad, a Jedi, a Sith Lord, everything and anything you could think of.

But above all, I simply . . .am.


	2. Chapter One

A Princess's Tale **__**

A Princess's Tale

Chapter One

I was born, if you can call it that, a _very long time_ ago. I would tell you the number, except it's so big, I can't count that high. I am so old, I make the Ancient Ones, the Ones who came before even the Shadows, look young. Yet I retain the appearance of a girl around nineteen, my golden hair falling down my back, past my waist, and skin so white it makes snow look dark, paler than even Marius, Lestat, or Mekare and Maharet. A mouth called lush by some, colored dark red, is the only feature that disrupts my snowy skin, and the only thing that reveals my age is my eyes, dark, dark chips of iridescent blue ice. Many a man has tried to melt the coldness, but all have failed. They don't understand . . .they don't understand the things I've seen . . .the things I've done . . .

I'm digressing again. We'll get to those things, all in good time. Back to the beginning.

As I said, I was born a very long time ago, and raised by two wonderful people for five years. My mother, Mirini, was a beautiful woman, with dark chocolate hair almost as long as mine is now. She usually wore it up in an elegant knot, but when she let it down, the curls would spill over her shoulders, and she would let me play with them. My father, Jado, had blonde hair like mine, and I remember he had a strong, kind face, lined and wise. It's a pity they weren't really my parents. Uncle, the being who's been guiding me my entire life, created my parents, then my brother and me.

Let me tell you about my brother. Jonathan had dark hair like my mother's, though it curled just under his ears. He was four years older than I was, and I loved him so much. He was my darling older brother, the one who looked out for me, always had time for me, no matter what.

But all that changed on the night after my fifth birthday. Actually, to satisfy prophecy, it was the day after my birthday, but still the same night. Something woke me, I don't know what, so I naturally went to my parents room to see if they had woken me by accident. I stood just outside their open door, and watched. Father was watching Mother brush her hair, and they were conversing quietly. I was just about to go back to bed, when all hell broke loose.

Twelve men broke in through the window, and quickly overpowered my parents. Then they forced Father upright, making him watch as they all raped my mother, one by one. When they were finished, they slit Jado and Mirini from their necks to their waists.

I started to scream. One glanced up and saw me by the door. He said something, something like, "There's the one we want!" They started for me, but Uncle ran in, snatched me up, and raced outside. As we escaped, the house burst into flames behind us.

Josh just looked at me quizzically. I must have laughed without knowing it. It's strange to realize you committed your first murder at five years old. For millennia, I thought Uncle killed my parents' murderers, but it was really me.

I cannot tell you about the next nine years. I spent them in a gray haze. All I remember is my training, in fighting and magic. That was it.

Then, when I was fourteen, I met Micha. He was a year older than me, with dark hair, green eyes, and a face as gorgeous as Brad Pitt. I fell in love at first sight. Well, in infatuation, at least.

I was on a hill, staring up at the stars and playing with the hem of my robe, as I usually did at that time of night, when Micha came through the trees, sat down beside me, and introduced himself. I was rather surprised, because Uncle ruled my world, and most people weren't interested in me, only in what Uncle could do for them. I was simply the Princess; his apprentice, of sorts, and ward. No one important, not even an heir, since it was assumed Uncle would live forever. So when Micha started talking to me about . . .oh, normal things, I was somewhat shocked.

He must have sensed my wariness, because he laughed in that beautiful deep voice of his and said, "Trust me, Princess, I have no wish to use you to get to your Uncle. In fact, I've been trying to use him to get to you for about three years now. He's the one who told me you'd be here, if you were wondering."

"Why?" Was all I could think of to ask.

A bemused expression fell over his face, and he mused, "You know, you have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. So low and husky . . .it matches you."

I blushed, and he chuckled kindly, tilting my chin up so he could look at me. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," he murmured.

I'm ashamed to admit I blushed even more, partly because I had never talked with a boy the way I was talking to Micha, partly because his touch was so gentle and kind, and partly because he was the most beautiful boy/man I had ever seen. I was fourteen, for God's sake! What did you expect?

And so he began to woo me. It didn't take long. After a few weeks, my infatuation had turned to true love. Most would say that I was only fourteen, how could I know what love was? But back then, magic chose our mates for us. The first time Micha kissed me, the night we met, literal sparks shot from me to him, and we both knew that we were meant for each other.

We had a rather long courtship, five years. We didn't know why, but for some reason, we waited to make anything official. I know this all sounds modern, and it was. Uncle evolved our world very, very quickly. So what you consider as modern now could have originated on my world. Anyway, we both agreed to wait.

So five years passed. On the day after my nineteenth birthday (a lot of things have happened to me the day after my birthday), Uncle called me out to the field, and tossed a _sakri_ to me (it's called a katana now). "Read the inscription," he told me, and I lifted the blade to my eyes.

"The one who holds the blade is the last hope, and the last danger, to all the universe. If she succeeds, all will be illuminated. But if she fails, all shall be thrust into darkness," was etched in silver on the blade.

My confusion must have been evident, for Uncle said, "I'll explain all in a little while. But for now . . ." He attacked.

We must have fought for five, maybe ten minutes. Since the sun was shining, we both start to perspire, and our robes were soon plastered to our bodies. We both had light cuts that stung when our sweat hit them, and we both had torn each other's robes. It was not a pleasant fight.

Suddenly Uncle blocked me, and kicked my feet out from under me. I fell hard, and before I knew what was going on, he had thrust his sword deeply into my abdomen. All went black.

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When I came to, Uncle was holding Micha back with a hand to the chest. "Trust me," he growled at my love.

"Easy for you to say," Micha snapped back. "You just killed your own niece!"

"Not quite." Uncle spun Micha around and forced him to look at me. Micha's green eyes widened in shock as he saw me sitting up, coughing. He was immediately by my side, holding me close as he smoothed back my hair.

"Are you all right?" He gasped.

I didn't answer, my gaze on Uncle. He winced slightly at the coldness I knew was on my face, and said, "Why don't you make yourself comfortable, Princess. This is going to take awhile."

As I leaned into Micha's protective embrace, Uncle crouched down, took a deep breath, and began to speak. "Let's start with what you all ready know. There is the Light, and the Darkness. One cannot survive without the other, but occasionally, the Darkness tries to swallow the Light. Therefore, two Champions are born. You, my dear, are the Champion for the Light. And the Champion for the Darkness is . . ."

Before he could continue, I knew the answer. "No," I whispered, scrambling out of Micha's embrace as I shook my head, unable to accept what I knew he was going to say. "No!"

"Yes," Uncle sighed. "The Champion for the Darkness is . . .your brother, Jonathan. He killed your parents."


	3. Chapter Two

A Princess's Tale **__**

A Princess's Tale

Chapter Two

I knew disbelief was written all over my face, and Micha snarled at Uncle, "What type of a cruel joke is this? Jonathan died fourteen years ago!"

"No, he didn't," Uncle replied softly, his deep, deep voice regretful. "Though sometimes I wish it was true. Jonathan . . ." He paused, as if trying to find the strength for his next words. "Jonathan ordered the death of your parents. They were to kill Jado and Mirini, then kidnap you and deliver you to him."

All I could do was shake my head, and Uncle reached out, taking my chin in his large, dark brown hand. "Look into my eyes," he commanded, and I lifted my gaze to stare into the dark brown depths. And I suddenly knew it was all true. The sadness reflected there, the regret etched into every line of his face . . .Tears began to fall down my pale cheeks, and Uncle gathered me close for a few moments.

But I pushed away and jumped to my feet. Curling up on the ground a few feet away, I fidgeted with the ties to my sandals, I stared at Uncle. "Why am I still alive?"

"Well, 'still' doesn't _quite_ explain it." At my narrowed eyes, Uncle hastily went on, "All right, all right. You're Immortal, Princess."

Let me explain something here. You may have noticed Uncle doesn't really want me using my powers, for one simple reason. I have more power than him. Much, _much_ more power. Even at nineteen (and I didn't know this), if I had wanted to, I could have killed him. And since Uncle is more than a god, it would have been no mean feat, yet, to me, a simple snap of my fingers, if that much, would have taken care of it. 

Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I had just discovered that I was Immortal . . .

_"What?"_ I gasped.

"A little hard to believe, yes," Uncle agreed, and rested his chin in his hand. "You are Immortal, as is Jonathan now. You cannot die unless you lose your head." Still sensing my disbelief, he went on, "I know, I know. Rather unbelievable, but true."

"How?"

"An ancient, ancient, _ancient_ bit of magic. I invoked it when you were born."

"Why?"

"So you could prepare for the ultimate battle between you and your brother."

"You _knew?"_ I hissed. "You knew my parents would die?"

He sighed, a deep and sad sound. "Yes."

"And you _did nothing?!"_

"I _couldn't_, Princess. Jado and Mirini had to die for all of this to happen. Princess, if I could have done _anything_, I would have. I was barely able to save _you_."

Micha made a motion, as if he wanted to come near me, but I reflexively put up a forcefield around myself. I saw the hurt on his face, but he wordlessly drew back, giving Uncle and I a bit of privacy. Uncle reached out, his callused fingers a breath away from the shield, and said, "Princess, please, I need you to trust me. Otherwise, everyone and everything will perish."

My hands clenched, my gaze dropped, and I slowly lowered the shimmering field around me, accepting his hand and was pulled to my feet. A silver circlet appeared in Uncle's hands, and he directed me to bow my head. Once I had done so, he slipped the crown on my head, and lightening flashed across the clear sky. **"Behold the Princess!"** He shouted to the empty sky, his voice echoing. **"Behold, and rejoice!"**

My mouth fell open. "Princess" had always been Uncle's pet name for me, and the name our people had known me by. It hadn't been anything special, or so I had thought. He had never called me by my real name, and I had thought nothing of it. But now it was suddenly my title? What in the Nine Hells was going on? Uncle gently closed my mouth, a bittersweet smile twisting his lips. "Hail, Princess."

I could only stare at him, but then I collapsed to the ground, burying my face in my hands. I had suddenly been overtaken with images I could not control. A scream forced its way out of my mouth at everything I was seeing, and I was only dimly aware of Micha holding me tightly.

As quickly as it had begun, it stopped, and I was left hunched over, gasping for breath, the echoes of my screams fading away.

Uncle was on his knees before me; his face concerned as he studied my face, framed by his hands. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I panted. "I saw . . .I saw . . .I saw . . .everything."

This was not the clearest of answers, I admit, but Uncle seemed to understand. He smoothed his thumb over my high cheekbones. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it would happen this fast, otherwise I would have prepared you."

"It's . . .it's all right." My breathing had calmed, and Micha helped me to my feet, his arms still protectively holding me close. I reached up to touch his face for a moment, and he kissed my temple. Uncle glanced away for a moment, to allow us our affection, then cleared his throat and said, "Normally, I would let you find your way in this world, but this is not a normal situation. You still have about four years left in your training, and I hope you'll stay here so you'll be a little more prepared."

I nodded once, and Micha asked if he could speak to me alone. With a nod, Uncle left. Glancing around, Micha pulled me into the trees a hundred yards away to make sure we would not be disturbed. His lips covered mine for a long moment, his fingers tangling in my long hair and his kiss almost desperate.

When he finally pulled back, I looked at him quizzically, and he kissed me again, more gently this time. "I love you, you know that?"

This had not been the first time we had told each other this, but somehow it was different this time. I replied, and he brushed his lips across my forehead and whispered, "Marry me."

Not sure I had heard him right, I asked, "What?"

"Become my wife," he said more clearly. "We both know we were chosen for each other. Please, Athena, will you marry me?"

What else could I say but yes? He was right, we were chosen for each other, and I loved him so much. Of course my reply was yes. A grin split his handsome face, and he swung me in a circle, pressing kisses from my temple to my jaw, muttering _I love you_ over and over again.

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Alright, alright, Uncle wasn't the happiest camper in the world when Micha and I announced our engagement. But there was nothing he could really do, since he had invoked the magic that chose the mates of my people. But he managed to get us to wait a year so everything could be arranged.

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And so, about two weeks before my wedding, I was kidnapped.

One night, I was sleeping in a clearing a few hundred yards away from our dwellings, and had foolishly forgot to put up some protection. This was before my reflexes were as good as they are now, and so I was overpowered before I knew what was happening. A hood was forced over my head, my hands and feet were bound, and a club was slammed into the back of my head.

I passed out, probably died, and when I came to, I was chained to a cold stone wall, and staring into familiar brown eyes, dark brown orbs I had not seen for fourteen years. My brother was standing before me, every inch of his well-muscled body radiating power and lust.


	4. Chapter Three

A Princess's Tale **__**

A Princess's Tale

Chapter Three

Needless to say, I was terrified. If what Uncle had told me was true (and back then, I had no reason to doubt him), then what would happen to me next would not be pleasant. At all. Jonathan's eyes traveled down my robed body, mentally undressing me, I could tell. I gnawed on my bottom lip, and his darkly tanned thumb traced the outline of my mouth. "Such a beautiful creature," he breathed. "Even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

"What do you want, brother?" I spat, trying to mask my fear, but he laughed, able to sense it anyway.

"I'm sure Uncle has answered that question, sister," he replied softly. "I want what is mine. You."

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Lovely family I've got, eh? So began my brother's regime of terror over me. The next three years were nothing but a living hell. I'm sorry, I can't write this right now. Give me a few minutes.

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Okay. I'm sorry, I couldn't deal for a few moments. It's funny. For someone who can't feel, at least, not much, that still bothers me more than I care to admit. Jonathan de Angelo. Jonathan of the Angels. That's a laugh.

I always thought your first time was supposed to be special, with someone you loved. But I was raped by my own brother. He took something from me that I can never get back. And I've been through counseling, I've talked through it, but I still feel so dirty. Josh knows. He knows when I get this look in my eyes, I'm remembering the horror, and he holds me tightly, whispering in my ear. And I calm down.

Damn him. Damn him to the deepest pits of the Nine Hells. He locked me in a room full of snakes. I _cannot stand_ snakes. And then his head was between my legs while those . . .those creatures were all over my body. And I orgasmed. I bloody orgasmed. Then he was in me, fucking me while I lay there, helpless, my hands chained to the floor above my head. To this day, I cannot have my hands held above my head.

When he finished, and pulled out, I could see my blood on him. And I hurt so much. My legs were spread and chained, so I couldn't move. I could feel my blood dripping out of me, and he just left me there, and the snakes were all over me.

He came to me repeatedly, having his way with me. And I broke within a month. For three years, I was his slave, and he formed a Soul Bond on me, a Soul Bond so powerful I could barely break it. My hand is so tightly wrapped around the scarab pendant at my throat, I think my knuckles are turning even whiter. Oh, gods . . .

What was most humiliating was I didn't even know the Bond was on me. All the training I've had, and I didn't even know.

One night he came to me, and bathed me, being extremely careful not to hurt me. Once I was clothed, I settled on my knees, head bowed, completely submissive. I hate to think of this now. I hate being submissive. I've never submitted in my life, and this happened to me. Hell yes, I'm bitter. I'm allowed, don't you think?

So I kneeling on the floor, and he was watching me in silence. It grew unbearable, so I ventured to ask, "Your Highness?" (I'm the Princess of Light, hence Jonathan's the Prince of Darkness.)

He continued to watch me, than tilted my face up to his. "Are you happy, my darling?"

"Only when you are, Highness."

He waved his hand before my face, and suddenly I woke up. My mind belonged to me once again, and I tried to scramble away, but he had a lock-hold on my face. "Why will you not give yourself to me willingly?" He asked, and I thought I heard regret in his voice.

"Because you killed our parents!" I spat. "You raped me, you tried to kidnap me when I was five! Do you know, all you would have had to do is ask me to come with you, and I would have?! And then I learn you murdered our parents! How can you ask me to give myself to you?"

He gazed at me with his beautiful eyes, then said, "I could keep you here."

"You could," I allowed. "But what would be the point? Brother, this is not our time to meet." Even though it revolted me, I reached forward to hold his face as he was holding mine. "Please, let me go. Let me prepare, and you prepare yourself, for our ultimate meeting. We both know it's coming, no matter what. If you keep me here, it will come. If you let me go, it will come. If your will overpowers mine then, I will come with you, but for now, let me go." My voice broke. "Please."

He studied me hard, then bent forward and brushed his lips against mine ever so briefly. "Go," he hissed painfully, releasing me. "Go, before I change my mind."

At the door, I turned to look at him and said, so softly he barely heard me, "I loved you . . .Jonathan." It had been the first time I had used his name in fourteen years.

As I raced out of the castle, his sobs filled the air.

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When I arrived back at our dwellings, Micha sensed me coming and raced to meet me, pulling me into a rough embrace. That was the first time I had ever sensed another Immortal, and I learned a little later that Micha had had an accident during the harvest, and was now like me. At the moment his arms went around me, I buried the last three years deep in my soul, hopefully so far it would never come up. And it didn't. At least not until a couple of years ago. Micha and I were married, and were extremely happy together. I repressed every memory that had to do with Jonathan, and anything that reminded me of him, especially a certain event . . .

Nine months later, I gave birth to a baby boy. My firstborn . . .and Jonathan was his father. I gave the child away, and, as I said, repressed the memory. Micha, thankfully, knew nothing of the babe, because it wasn't a normal pregnancy. For some reason, I never gained weight, and I never said anything. I died right after childbirth, and when I woke up, I didn't allow myself to remember for hundreds of years. And time passed.


	5. Chapter Four

A Princess's Tale **__**

A Princess's Tale

Chapter Four

Immortals, unfortunately, cannot stay together permanently. We end up killing each other because of the Game if we do. After I finished my training, Uncle and I worked on a spaceship, and Micha and I left our planet and began to explore the universe. As we went, I created worlds, civilizations, etcetera. After about a thousand years, Micha and I separated for a while. Two thousand years later, I went insane.

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I have gone completely, truly insane exactly three times. Trust me, it's not a pleasant thing. I settled on the planet Zorikadomar, and so began _my_ reign of terror. I completely decimated that entire planet's population. I staked pregnant mothers . . .I won't go into too much detail. Trust me, you don't want to know.

But there was one man . . .His name was Daren. He had sandy hair falling to his shoulders and yellowish-green eyes. Very interesting, and he caught my mad fancy. After I murdered his entire family, I brought him to my castle one night, seduced him, and turned him into a vampire. Under my teaching, he became as twisted and evil as I was, and we reveled in the pain we brought to the people of Zorikadomar.

After a few centuries, the planet was completely barren, and after a blazing row, I abandoned Daren on Zorikadomar. Once I was in orbit, I blew the planet up.

There was one problem, I found out later. There are two lines of prophecy that have caused me more than a bit of trouble. _"And her allies shall defy the grave to serve her,"_ and, _"And his allies shall defy the grave to serve him."_ What that means is that all of my people who die are given one more chance at life, and the same goes for Jonathan's allies. Occasionally, the recently deceased has a choice in the matter, yet at other times, it simply happens. Magic is such a fickle thing, isn't it? Since Daren had once been my ally, and then betrayed me, becoming Jonathan's ally, he got two chances. It's confusing, so don't ask. But we'll get back to Daren later.

So, I kept wandering, still insane. I don't know what broke me out. Everything's still a little fuzzy. All I remember is one day, I woke up, and was me. I spent around four hundred years in self-imposed solitary confinement, on an empty planet I created for the purpose.

Micha came to me there. It was like the first time we had met. I was on a hill, staring up at the stars and playing with the hem of my robe, when Micha came through the trees, sat down beside me, and introduced himself.

I started to laugh, and he soon joined in, opening his arms. I crawled into his embrace, whispering against the linen of his tunic, "Do you know what I've done?"

"I do," he replied just as softly. "And I know that you weren't quite in charge of your own senses." His lips brushed the top of my head as he continued, "No matter what, I love you, and I will always love you." Then his mouth met mine, and the sparks flew once more.

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Let's see . . .I can skip over the next, oh, three or four trillion years. Nothing much happened, except that Micha and I finally decided that no matter how much we loved each other, we need to go our separate ways, permanently. We might see each other occasionally, and probably end up making love, but we could no longer live together. I went through a variety of lovers from then on, and lost track of time. There was nothing to do with Jonathan, or any other evil, so I spent the time developing my already considerable powers. I still haven't found the limits of all I could do, but anyway. So, let's keep skipping . . .Mmm-hmm . . .there was this one time when a whole coven of vampires decided to either have me as their leader or I would die . . .

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There's not much I can say on this. The leader, a bloke named Koren decided I was still very, very evil. I convinced him and his followers otherwise. Nice pile of dust they made.

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Let's see . . .Ah, yes, the Slayer. Officially, though no one knows it, and that's how I like it, I'm the first Slayer. But I got tired of the job (I died a lot), so I invoked a spell so that every time a Slayer died, a new one would be called in her place. And so the Slayers were born, but anyway. Let's see . . .Nope, nothing interesting in _that_ century . . . I went insane once more. I don't remember anything, just the fact that there's now a lot of rubble where an entire galaxy used to be. I've killed a lot of people.

Luckily, during all of this, I never ran into my "grandchildren", the Vorlons, Shadows, any of the first ones. Didn't need to run into any relatives. Yes, I'm part Vorlon, Shadow, human, Minbari, Narn, Hynerian, Delvian, Human, etcetera. I might have mentioned this before, but every single species there could be, I'm part of it. Which is why I'm the Princess. I rule over them when they need it. Which, thank the gods, is not often.

Okay . . .let's just say a _lot_ of time passed. I don't know how much, but a lot. The world was created, and I did that favor for God . . .

Oh, yeah, that favor. Might as well tell you about it. You all know the story of Cain, right? For those of you who don't, Cain killed his brother and was punished for it by God. Severely. What God did was to curse Cain with vampirism. But since vampires are considered "evil", God would not change Cain himself. So, he asked me to, and I was more than happy to oblige. And that started one breed of vampire. His type has evolved (kinda) through the generations, and has separated into clans, like the Brujah, Gangrel, Tremeres, Nosferatu, Toreador, and the Ventrue, just to name a few. And then there's the type of Akasha and Enkil. A spirit inhabited them, a spirit of my making when I went insane the second time. Amel was as close to me as a son back then. I'm the one who gave him the thirst for blood he had, the thirst so great he took over the King and Queen of Egypt six thousand years ago. I only semi-regret that. If I hadn't created Amel, I never would have known the beautiful Marius, Louis, my darling Lestat, Armand, all the others. So there is good come from almost every evil, it seems . . .There might be a few more breeds of vampires such as Daren's, but those type die a very painful death if they come to this planet, so no biggie. And I'm part of all of them. Impossible, you might say. Bingo. I _am_ impossible. I'm the exception to every single rule there is, and a few that aren't. I'm also quite a few contradictions, but don't worry about that.

Let's see…nothing really hit the fan until about thirteen million years ago, when my rather strange, yet somehow adorable granddaughter was born. Let's see, how much can I gloss over? Brenna's birth was not…the way it should have been, we could say. I'm ashamed to say I had a hand in it. I needed a second hand that could be me when I wasn't around. Most who know Brenna thinks she's more dangerous than me, and that's what I want them to think. I'm telling you now, I'm not boasting. I am the most dangerous person I know. I could wipe out the entire human race, in any galaxy or universe, with nothing but a random thought. I even have more power than Q. Scary, eh? Anyway, back to Bren.

Unfortunately, I allowed the girl to be spoiled. When she was born, she was born full-grown, much like Zeus's daughter, Athena, only with slight differences. Now, I was at her birth (she doesn't remember it because I was invisible at the time), and I knew who she was and who she would be. Therefore, I made more exceptions than I should have in her case. A mistake in some cases, a blessing in others. Her temper, for instance. That needs to go unchecked, at least for now.

Justin once compared our tempers. "Man, Princess," he said, "When you get pissed, you're like ice. And Brenna's the exact opposite. She blows up! I don't know which one I would hate the most to be pissed at _me._"

Darling Curls. Pity he cut his hair. He needs to grow it back out. (**AN:** Oh, hell yes!)

Once the Duchess was born, I was _swamped._ Literally. _Everything_ and _anything_ that could possibly happen did. I shudder just to remember. For example, in one week, I had to prevent _eight_ assassination attempts on my granddaughter. Jonathan wanted his hands on that girl. If he managed to subdue my will, we would have had a son (the _only_ exception to the fact that Immortals cannot have children), and our son would have married . . .bingo. Brenna. I swear, I _hate_ prophecy at times.

So things started to get really sticky back then. The few Immortals new to the game were quickly killed, because the "oldest" Immortal was a very specific person. You might know him, but we'll get there eventually.

Right. So, I was dealing with all sorts of crap, including Atlantis, my family, and a few other things. Ah, yes, Sebastian Valic. A . . .thing I made sure went to the very deepest pits of all the hells. I'm not going to go into much detail, but there're a few things I can tell. My life, and usually the life of those close to me, run in repetitions. Brenna was kidnapped by Sebastian and raped. He broke her, she escaped, etcetera. And then he kidnapped her again. It was not a pleasant experience. She escaped with the help of Jean Claude, a vampire almost as old as Bren. They, of course, fell in love.

Sebastian, to say in the least, was not happy. He abducted them both and staked them just before dawn, Jean Claude facing the east, and Brenna facing him. She watched her true love burst into flames, the only thing on his face the love he held for her.

Before this, Brenna had been stripped of her powers by Zeus. Not his wisest decision, and I let him know.

And when Jean Claude died, Brenna regained her powers by . . .going insane.


	6. Chapter Five

My Story **__**

My Story

Chapter Five

Repetitions, people, repetitions. Lots of repetitions.

Now, I've had a link on Brenna since the day she was born, and when I found out about her predicament, I was less than pleased. Zeus had _no_ right to do what he did, and he knew it. He was crossing a line, and he knew that, too. The Council cannot strip a god's/goddess's powers without _my_ approval. They were hoping I would be so busy I would overlook their transgression. Fat chance.

So I arrived at Olympus in the middle of a Council of how Brenna was able to overcome her stripping of power. To say the gods and goddesses were happy at my appearance would be a lie. I, ah, stalked through the now-silent crowd, my hood up, and I could see Zeus wince. "Princess . . ." He started, but I cut him off.

"Don't you _dare_ 'Princess' me," I spat, tossing back my hood and glaring at him. "What in the Nine Hells do you think you're doing?"

"What is my right!"

"Only by _my_ grace."

Brenna chose that time to show up, and I booted Zeus out of his throne and sat down, waiting.

The short brunette challenged the gods and goddesses to a fight to the death, and a particularly foolish boy accepted. Brenna won, then brought the boy back to life. The Council was surprised, to say in the least. Brenna's one powerful puppy. Then, of course, she collapsed, from exhaustion, grief, and a variety of other things.

I knelt by her side, then leveled the Council with an icy stare. "If you _ever_ pull this again," I snarled, _"You will answer to **me.**"_

--------------------------------

When she came to, we were at my fortress in good old Australia, though it wasn't called that back then. I was bathing her forehead, and she sat straight up, snarling. I don't remember the exact particulars of the following conversation. But I left, and by the next morning, she was gone.

--------------------------------

Three months later, she came back, a little worse for wear, and we were plunged into a war. It seemed Valic's followers weren't too happy with Bren for killing their leader, so they decided to, ah, punish her. Since the girl was my Duchess, I wasn't going to let them. The war lasted all of three days. After a few skirmishes, I stepped out on a balcony and exchanged a glance with Brenna, asking if she wanted to do the honors. She shook her head, and I glanced at the army. Instantaneously, every single man, woman, whatever, died, screaming in agony. I'm not a nice person.

That's not entirely true. I can be a very nice person. Just don't piss me off. Ask anybody, and they'll tell you. Don't irritate me.

So that problem was taken care of, and I took Brenna under my wing, figuratively speaking. And, as you've no doubt guessed, time passed.

--------------------------------

Fast-forward to about five thousand years ago. Brenna has undergone some major training, and is now not half-bad at stuff. There have been a few riots, rebellions, and the like, but all have been easily taken care of. And the "first" Immortal is about to discover what he is.

--------------------------------

Brenna and I stood on a hill a few hundred yards away from a merrily blazing village. I had an infant in my arms, thankfully sleeping, and I unconsciously smoothed his dark hair as I watched the fire. "No survivors?" Brenna asked quietly.

"No. None but this little one." I looked down at the child in my arms, and was caught in the gaze of olivine orbs. I think it was then I was lost.

"Does he have a name?"

"No. His mother asked me to do so a long time ago."

"She was a seer. She saw this would happen."

"Yes. And she knew I would not get here until it was too late. She chose not to tell me that part."

"What shall you name him?"

I studied that angular face with a nose that didn't fit, yet somehow did. "Methos. His name is Methos."

--------------------------------

I gave the boy to a friend of mine, instructing him to not tell Methos he was adopted until the time was right. I don't think Perticus (no, not Gabrielle's husband), knew what I was talking about, but anyway. Seventeen years passed. My curiosity got the better of me, and I went to see how Methos was doing. Perticus and I were talking in the garden when I felt a slight buzzing, and my friend tilted his head, then called, "Methos, lad, come in here! There's someone I want you to meet."

Footsteps sounded, and a tall, lanky youth stopped in the doorway. I glanced up, slightly curious, and barely managed to keep from doing a double-take. The infant I had held in my arms seventeen years ago had _grown up_. His brow creased for a moment, then smoothed out as he gave me a short bow. "Princess. The legends were lying."

"In what, lad?"

"Your beauty far surpasses any description I have ever heard."

Even at seventeen, he was a charmer. I couldn't help but smile as I inclined my head in thanks.

--------------------------------

I stayed with Perticus and Methos for a few weeks, and spent nearly all my time with the young man. Ever since my insanity, I refused to let myself love in the fear I might hurt that someone. So I didn't believe I was falling for Methos. I did want him as my lover, but a mere, I don't know, fling, you could say. Nothing serious.

So the afternoon before I left, we were walking in the woods, and I carefully directed us to the edge of a stream, where, me being the sneaky person I am, I had laid out a picnic. Methos looked at the meal and said, face straight, "The gods must have blessed us. Here's a lovely meal laid out." Then he glanced at me and started laughing. "You are conniving, aren't you?"

I deemed it wise not to answer.

--------------------------------

After we had eaten, we lay on our sides, facing each other, talking. I talk a lot, I've noticed. Methos had his head pillowed on his crooked elbow, and I suddenly reached over to trail my fingers along his angular jaw. His eyelids fluttered half-closed as he nuzzled his face into my palm, and I had to lean over and kiss him. It quickly became a bit steamier, and we rolled so he was on top of me. I'm sure you can guess what happened next, so we're going to skip the next few hours. For those of you who _can't_, let's just say Methos and I got to know each other _very_ well.

--------------------------------

Ah, afterwards, I had my head on Methos's shoulder, and he was stroking my shoulder, the blanket I conjured covering us. "I wish we could stay like this forever," he whispered. I kissed his alabaster shoulder, then we both dressed, and he hugged me loosely. "You'll come back?"

As I held him, I pondered the question, then decided. "Yes. I'll come back." He brushed his knuckles down my cheek, I traced his lips with my thumb and whispered, "Give my love to your father," then disappeared into the trees.

--------------------------------

The following years aren't very important. I kept an eye on Methos, though I could never bring myself to go see him until he was around--- bugger, what age was it? ---thirty, I think. I heard raiders were attacking his village, and I managed to get there just as Perticus breathed his last. I held his head in my lap, my eyes on Methos's corpse, lying just a few feet away.

He woke with a start, his olivine eyes finding mine. The next thing I knew, he had attacked me, sobbing as he accused me of . . .Well, that's between him and I. I let him beat out his anger and grief, then held him to me as I whispered in his ear. Something in me melted, and I found myself saying, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

When his tears were spent, we buried Perticus, and he almost collapsed from exhaustion and grief. I caught him, and he fell asleep in my arms as I carried him away from the ruins of his village. Once I was sure he was safe, I went after the raiders, and I made them pay.

When I came back, Methos was waiting for me. "What am I?" He asked softly.

I sat down, steepling my fingers. "You are Immortal."

--------------------------------

So began the training of the first Immortal. You didn't think he figured all the Rules and stuff out on his own, did you?

Two hundred years passed; I trained Methos to where he was almost as good as I. We resumed our physical relationship, and life went on until about a thousand years later.

Three Immortals were born: Kronus, Caspian, and Silas.


	7. Chapter Six

A Princess's Tale **__**

A Princess's Tale

Chapter Six

Methos and I had met occasionally from the time he had left my tutelage, and I _never_ expected him to become one of the Four Horsemen. I was wrong. I'm not sure how much time passed, but he and Kronus, Silas, and Caspian terrorized numerous numbers of people, and one of them, Methos took a fancy to. He found a dark beauty under the training of a tribe's Wiseman, and took her as his body slave. I believe most of you should know whom I'm talking about. The beautiful Cassandra, a rather strong witch, if that's the right word. I'm not sure it is.

Then the Four Horsemen broke up, for some reason. I'm not quite sure why. And more time passed.

--------------------------------

Immortals were born. Vampires were Slayed. Lots of things happened, and Jonathan and I had an actually civil meeting. Together, we made the Neutral Territory, and sat down and started to talk. "A war would be pointless," I pointed out.

"It would," he allowed. "But you've amassed quite a force."

"So have you. Face it, brother, neither of us want to waste lives. This has always been between you and me."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"You know the date of our battle. On that day, we meet here, and settle this once and for all."

"Sounds agreeable," he mused. "It won't be that simple, of course. I have more than a few fanatics."

"As do I. But we can try to keep them in line."

"Mmmm. By the way, I approve of your Rules for the Game. I never would have thought of them."

"Of course not. You're the Prince of Darkness. You play dirty."

"So do you."

I let a smile curve my lips. "I know. Do we need to discuss anything else?"

"I think not. Sister," he called to me as I was leaving, and I turned back. He studied me for a long moment, then went on, "You loved me. I still love you."

I refused to answer, and left.

--------------------------------

Let's see . . .oh, yes . . .

Ask anyone, and they'll tell you: _I hate being betrayed_. I cannot stand traitors, probably because I've been betrayed by most of the people closest to me. One of them is Micha. Let's just say he decided he deserved to win the Prize. He didn't. I had to kill my first husband. That kinda makes you a little jaded, y'know?

--------------------------------

Bugger, when was that? Well, anyway. A thousand or so years ago, I took a small lad under my wing, by the name of Merlin. I trained him, and together, we watched over the rise of King Uther Pendragon. Most know what happens next. Uther lusted after a lady, Merlin arranged it so he took on the appearance of the lady's husband, and a small child named Arthur was conceived. Merlin would not have done what he did if I hadn't expressly told him to. England needed that child to be born. So, after he was born, Merlin and I took him to Sir Ector. Merlin stayed to watch over the boy, while I went to take care of some business.

What was this business, you ask? I became a blacksmith, of sorts. Earlier, I'm not sure how earlier, I had forged a cute little bracelet with a long name I can never remember. Most people, however, simply know it as the Witchblade. Elizabeth Bronte was right. The Witchblade could be considered snapped off the tree of good and evil, but what most people don't realize is that _good_ or _evil_ is simply a facet of the stone. It's hard to explain, so I won't. Anyway, I holed up north and forged a very pretty blade, named Excalibur. And I gave it to a nymph in a certain lake, with some very explicit instructions. Legends now call her the Lady of the Lake. Beautiful girl.

When it was time, Merlin and I brought Arthur to the lake, he received the sword, and time went on.

Okay, let's get one thing straight here. _Guinevere and Lancelot were **never** lovers. **Never.**_ You get the point? Lancelot was like Arthur's _brother_, and all the love Guinevere and Lancelot had for each other was purely platonic. They were like brother and sister. I swear, the things people come up with...

And you know what happens. Arthur gave Excalibur back to the Lady of the Lake after his son, Mordred, joined the Saxons. And _no,_ Morgaine did _not_ seduce Arthur. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but they didn't know what was happening at the time, I promise.

Anyway, as Arthur lay dying, Morgaine came in a boat with me, and we took him to Avalon, where he currently resides. I know what you're going to say next. Where is he, then? I can't quite answer that. I was going to check on him, when, all of a sudden, I arrived on the island, and all that was there was the monastery. As amazing as it seems, I have not been able to find them since. It's slightly worrying, but I have faith Merlin will bring them up when he's ready. I hope...

--------------------------------

Six hundred years ago, I met a lad named William Thatcher. I first saw him when he was posing as his master, Sir Ector, and I tried to keep myself from loving him. I failed. Miserably. He asked me to raise his son with him, and we lived happily for eighty years, until he died, a rich old man. Edward, his son, and I parted ways, and twenty, thirty, something like that, years later, I went on to Scotland, and met Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod. Around a hundred years later, we met his clanbrother, Duncan. Connor and I had a Shared Quickening about a hundred fifty years later.

Three hundred years ago, I went insane for the third and final time.

--------------------------------

Okay. I spent my time on Earth this time, up in a remote place in Siberia. I didn't kill people for no reason this time, only if they ticked me off. There were still quite a few deaths, but it was no matter. I imported people so I never ran out. After a hundred years, a familiar, tall, lanky man came calling.

I was sprawled in my throne, eating my meal of human eyeballs, when Methos stormed in, pulled out a _gauntlet_, of all things, and threw it on the floor. "I challenge thee, Princess Athena," he growled. "Dost thou hast the courage to face me?"

This youngling dared challenge _my_ courage? What the hell was he thinking? So I accepted.

--------------------------------

It was a very formal duel. We did all the rituals, bowing to each other before touching the tips of our blades together. I attacked first.

It was harsh. Before too long, he was sweating hard, and even I was getting a little short of breath. Both of us had light wounds, as usual. I'll give Methos one thing. When I trained him, I trained him well. But I didn't teach him everything. After about five tough minutes, I feinted to the left and whirled to the right, my _sakri_ slicing into his side just beneath his heart.

Choking, he fell to his knees, but managed to hold up a hand just before I decapitated him. "M-may I say something?" He gasped.

Curious, I let him. His eyes rose to capture mine as they had so many times in the previous five thousand years. "I love you, my Princess," he whispered. "I've always loved you."

I stared at him, incredulous, then started to laugh. "What did you expect, young on---" I was suddenly cut off as something inside of me snapped, and I fell into convulsions, passing out.

--------------------------------

When I came to, Methos was beside my bed, looking fatigued, even though his hand was steady as he bathed my forehead with a cool cloth. When he saw I was awake, he gave me a small smile, but I couldn't return it, turning so I didn't have to face him. "Why are you still here?" I asked, surprised at how much hoarser my voice was than usual.

"I believe you all ready know the answer to that question," he said quietly, gently rolling me over so I was facing him once more. His long thumb stroked my cheekbone as the corners of his mouth lifted, then a frown marred his sculpted features.

"What is it?" I asked, swallowing.

Not answering, he lifted a mirror so I could see my reflection, and I gasped. My eyes had completely frozen over.

--------------------------------

That night, I was standing at a window, staring out at the Australian sea (Methos and Brenna had taken me there while I'd been unconscious), when Methos came up behind me, a blanket wrapped around his lean form. He watched me in silence for a few seconds, then gathered me in his arms, the comforter like a warm cocoon.

"Why did you do what you did, _micari_?" I asked after a while, using my old nickname for him, which meant _my beautiful one_ in an old, _old_ language. "If I taught you one thing, it's to survive. And to want to survive."

"You did," he allowed. "But you also taught me how to love."

I pulled out of his embrace. "I . . .can't love you," I told him haltingly. "I . . .can't _feel._"

His green-gold eyes were sad. "I know."

"How can you know?"

"When you were unconscious . . .Brenna showed me. Everything's gray inside of you. But I know that behind all that grayness, you love me as much as I love you."

I turned away, wrapping my arms around myself, and he drew me back against his chest. "Let's not worry about love right now, Princess. Let's just be together, eh?" He tilted my head back and kissed me. The temperature rapidly rose, and we barely managed to make it back to the bed.

--------------------------------

A few weeks later, I woke up to an empty bed, an unfamiliar weight around my neck. Looking at my reflection, I fingered the golden scarab nestled in the hollow of my throat, then saw the note on the table. _"My beautiful Princess,"_ it read in his elegant handwriting. _"Mere words cannot describe how it tears my heart asunder to leave you. But take my gift as a token of the love I have for you, and as a promise that I WILL see you again. And perhaps then, you will be able to look into my eyes and say you love me the way I know you do. I am always yours. Methos."_

Brenna came in then, sitting down next to my bed. We sat in silence, then she asked, "Business as usual?"

I took a deep breath, looked at the note, and blew out the breath. "Yes. Business as usual. Scram while I get dressed."

--------------------------------

And there you have it. A very, very, _very_ condensed version of my life. I've skipped a few things, such as Casinia, the thirty years or so I was a pirate, my little stint with the British Navy, the time I killed Daren for the second time, thus fulfilling my line of prophecy, etcetera, but you don't really need to know about all that.

Now, this, ah, narration might be considered rather, er, _light-hearted_. Perhaps _detached _would be a better word. What do you expect? _I can't feel_. Even now, after all this time, I've barely opened up. It's a pain in the ass, because there's so much _there_ I _want_ to let out, but I can't find it. So I treat everything rather casually.

And you might ask, okay, this sounds good, but why the hell isn't there any records of this? Of _me?_ The answer is quite simple. _I very rarely let any record of me exist, except for the rare, **rare** legend._ You could say I went up to that big computer in the sky, and deleted most of my entries.

But I'm done, Done, DONE! Leave me alone! Seriously, though, this is it. Do with it what you will.

****

End Author's Notes: Well. Tell me what you think.


End file.
